Page 13 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
A grimace appeared fleetingly on her lips before disappearing to her usual prim expression.
“Yes, Peter,” she replied, and the secretary bowed out of the room once more.
“What in God’s name have those children done now?” The duchess mumbled, spinning toward the doorway.
“Mother…”
She paused but she did not turn to look at him.
“I know you fear for the future, but you must not. Have faith that all will go accordingly, including my marriage.”
She did not reply and exited his bedchambers where Nicholas glimpsed the children’s governess pacing the corridor in wait. He was troubled by the way in which his mother had departed but there was little else he could do for the moment.
My presence is required downstairs. The guests have arrived, and we will be announced.
Nicholas reached for his top hat and coat and slipped on his gloves, ensuring he was the picture of nobility. He turned to follow the same path his mother had just taken through the hall, toward the center stairwell.
Pausing in the shadows, he noted—not for the first time—how blessed he was to live in such splendor. The dark walls of the endless corridor were brightened by portrait upon portrait of the previous occupants, the men, women and children of Rosecliff Manor.
Their faces, regal and confident illuminated by the iron chandeliers, each lit with rows upon rows of flickering candle, their glow spilling onto the thick carpet runner at his feet. Tapestries hung between the paintings, an interwoven display of peasant handiwork, each unique to the next. Nicholas’ white finger trailed across the wainscoting, marveling at the intricacy of his home. His charitable works had taken him into the slums of Norwich and the poverty he had seen in his life had only caused him to appreciate how much more he had than some of his fellow countrymen.
When I become Duke, I will work harder to abolish the famine and despair in East Anglia.
Buford was fortunate, a thriving area on the North Sea but there were so many other places which needed help. His father had donated much of his own income to help the needy and Nicholas intended to continue the legacy in his own rite.
Mother worries about the future but we have it mapped out for us as surely as the stars. Our home, our titles, our land and wealth; what is the difference if I wed today or in two years?
“Lord Buford, please wait as I announce you.”
Theodore appeared in his sudden, stealthy way and Nicholas started at the butler’s arrival. He nodded as the man descended the winding staircase, clearing his throat for attention.
“Nicholas, Lord Buford.”
Nicholas descended the steps, nodding cordially to the guests below who returned his attractive smile with ones of their own. Along the banister he rested his hand, touching it but only barely as he took each step. It came naturally to him, a task he had done hundreds of times since infancy, the slow dismount, the beaming, filling the foyer with his confidence and charm. Reaching the landing of the grand foyer, he accepted a goblet of champagne from a passing liveried waiter and brought the sweet liquid to his lips; his eyes searching the room for familiar faces.
Of course, Nicholas knew most of the men and women in his midst. The duke and duchess oft hosted galas and balls, a combination of pleasure with a twist. Subtle flirtations occurred in every corner of the gala, the sweet but coy smiles, an innocent touch of the arm, the glittering catch of an eye.
The marquess knew that his father conducted a great deal of business during party hours, handshake contracts made over scotch and cigars.
“You will learn that men are most agreeable when they have a drink in hand and a smile on their faces. That is when you wish to present your terms and conditions,” the duke explained to his son.
“That seems unsavory,” Nicholas protested and his father laughed.
“They are fully aware to what they are agreeing,” the duke assured him, patting his son warmly on the back. “It is merely preferred in this package to that of a stuffy inner office.”
Slowly, Nicholas was learning the ways of dukedom, absorbing the teachings his father bestowed.
“One day, you will be the finest duke Buford has ever seen.”
“That is going to be quite a feat, proceeding you, father,” Nicholas chuckled.
The duke eyed him, a deep respect emanating from his penetrating eyes.
“I know you will do me very proud, Nicholas.”
The men shared a warm look.
“Fortunately for me, I have many years yet to educate myself on the ways of dukedom and ensure your pride.”
